Malcontent

A windy and sharply cold January night all alone, just me and a nearly empty glass of pinot noir – it seems that something is speaking to me. This longing that I've avoided dealing with ... this longing to be dominated. This feeing has been consuming me for months now. This need to be controlled, used, and made to be submissive is so overwhelming that I can cry about it – the desire inside of me needs to be met. I want to be a slave, to live inside of that slavery, happily content.

What is wrong with me?

I'm in a relationship with a beautiful man, albeit perhaps not a man who can fulfill

all

of my needs. He is sweet, we are close. We've had hot sex in the past, on a continual basis, but I don't know what's happened lately. We seem to have hit this plateau in our relationship within the past several months where things are solid and very steady – not hot and heavy like I'm used to – like I want. No, like I

need

.

The January wind outside is slicing through my thoughts, defining them. I'm sitting here, in my panties and bra, at my computer with only a candle lit and the heat blaring through the vents to keep me warm. I am here waiting. And he is no where to be found. I haven't heard from him since last night when he wasn't feeling well – he's always feeling ill! It's so annoying. I want him to be the man; I want for him to feel good -- like he is in charge. But no, he wants to be babied. He wants me to cater to him and dote on his every need ...

and why shouldn't I?

He so would do it for me; has done it for me! But not how I truly need ... Goddess, what a selfish and evil bitch I am! I'm such a jealous person – I'm even jealous of my lover. 9:21 and he still hasn't called. But, I trust that he will come.

I hear the front door creak open like a tiny whine from the wine bottle when a cork is popped. I feel a presence, but instinctively know that it isn't my lover – I know his smell, I know his presence. This isn't it. I am at once scared and aroused. I sit very still in my darkened office, not wanting to move – waiting to hear if I can vibe some sort of explanation for this quiet house prowler.

I hear the sounds of someone moving through the empty, darkened house and my eyes water with anticipation – I make to move for the door so that I can hide in back when whoever comes through it. Instead, a voice comes from the other side, "Stop. Don't move. Go back and sit down." All of my senses are on full alert – every hair stands on end, and for some reason, just the tone and pitch of his voice made me follow his directions exactly. He was so clear in his intent; the force in his voice commanded me back to my office chair. I sat. Still.

What the fuck was wrong with me – why wasn't I screaming bloody murder or running for the phone to call 911?

Why

? Because I was fucking so turned on by this ... the sound of his voice – the tone and texture of his words, my vulnerability; I was quite simply overwhelmed by the situation, immersed in this forbidden emotion.

"Close your eyes and fold your hands in your lap." He instructed. My heart pounded. I swallowed dryly, wondering what he would do if I disobeyed him. Every fiber of my being tingled with awareness as the sounds of this January night blew on in the background.

I felt a presence move behind me, I felt him kneel down to me and I felt his breath hot on the back of my neck. A tear welled in my eye. He dragged a silk scarf around my throat, pausing just briefly to pull it hard against me – hard enough to make me cough and straighten in my posture. He took my delicate ear into his mouth and suckled it so seductively that I felt a rush of wetness flood to my cunt. His hands pulled tighter on the scarf. I tried to cry out, but the sound caught in my throat and only another tear escaped just barely to wet my brown eye. He pulled the scarf up to my eyes and tied it tightly around the back of my dirty blonde head. I was scared, but oddly enough, not afraid for my safety. There was an air of trust abounding from this man.

My fingers twisted with one another, and he sensed my trepidation. "Caitlin,"

oh my goddess – he said my name –

he hissed into my wet ear

.

I felt my pussy lips enflame with lust. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. Everything swirled. The room flip-flopped with my stomach.

He turned my swivel office chair to face him, although I couldn't see his face. His hands rested on my thighs, sending a tingling sensation through my entire being.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon." My breasts heaved as I breathed his seduction into my lungs. He trailed his finger down my cheek, down my neck, brushing gently against my breast, down my soft stomach ...

More forcefully, he spread my legs apart and snapped what sounded and felt like a fur-laden handcuff around my right ankle.

I resisted and he let my left leg dangle alone, "Tell me no right now and all of this will stop." I sat silent, panicked! Click went the other cuff over my left leg. Or if you want to continue, say, "yes Sir, whatever you see fit to do. And then I want silence unless I ask you a direct question. Now, what will it be?"

I could feel him standing above me, looking at me, so vulnerable and naked – even though I was still fully clothed – my soul barred for him to inspect.

A tear rolled down onto my cheek, the blindfold soaking up the salty liquid. "Yes, Sir." It wasn't a tear for fear, but rather a tear for release, that made its way down my face. "Whatever you see fit, Sir." There was such an abundant feeling of release at that moment.

My hands were still free though and I somehow felt like I had a smidgen of power left inside of me. Just then my hair was gripped tightly and my head pulled back with full force. "Hands behind you," the voice directed. This was my last out. And like a total slut, I obeyed and willingly put my hands behind me, allowing them to be bound with soft plush handcuffs. I was in heaven and petrified about the consequences this meant for my soul. I was completely out of control – I had no say in the matter of what was to happen to me next.

My nipple was tweaked ... I screamed out in shock! My face was instantly slapped for such an outburst.

"That's it, slut – it's on! No more screaming from you." His tone was more angry and harsh now that I was completely helpless in my bonds. I felt a cool slab of metal against my inner thigh, and felt a tinge of regret –

I was captive now, completely powerless.

I squirmed in the chair.

Scissors

!! They moved up against my clit and snipped my panties right off of my body.

"Hey!"

Shit

! I forgot his instructions about not speaking!! I wanted to tell him how expensive those panties were!

His hand shoved their tattered remains into my mouth. "There, now you won't make a sound." I coughed into my warm panties as he ripped tape from a roll to seal my mouth shut. I breathed quickly through my nose, laboring for oxygen. "I'll punish your insubordinate outburst later."

What the hell did that mean? Punishment???

He pulled my pink silk bra out away from my nipples about an inch or so and snipped enough material so that my erect nipple would poke through the opening. I gasped in sharply through my nose.

"Listen to me, you little slut." A hand slid through my slippery slit. I breathed deeply and groaned into the panties that were trapped in my mouth.

"Oh, look what you did you naughty girl, you soiled my hand. Someone is quite turned on ... needing to be fucked, Caitlin?" I tensed my buttocks up, trying to rid myself of this deplorable feeling of needing to be fucked and relieved right here by this strange beast who I couldn't even see. He ripped the surgical tape from my mouth and pulled the panties out.

"But not yet." He laughed at me. Blood rushed through my entire body, enflaming it with heated humiliation.

"Clean my hand." And I tentatively licked his hand and tasted my delicious juices, and the moment I began to really enjoy that, making love to his fingers, he pulled away. I was devastated. He shoved my panties back into my mouth and replaced the tape.

His mouth was taking in my left breast, sucking and biting just perfectly enough to make me feel on the verge of orgasm, but hard enough to know that he was silently trying to tell me to control myself. And just when I knew that I couldn't do that – just when I felt that first shudder of ecstasy, he withdrew his mouth, and abruptly denied me! I rolled my head back and moaned deeply into the damp panties shut inside my mouth.

"If you come I will punish you by spanking your bare ass until its red with shame." He hissed into my ear. "You already have punishment headed your way, Caitlin, you surely don't want to add any more – you won't be able to walk tomorrow." He laughed again.

And then his tongue was all over my pussy, licking my clit, lapping up the warm juice that was seeping out of me, making me roll back my head with unconscious pleasure. Oh my god, did that mouth feel good against my wanting, pleading hole. Nibbling on my clit, he drove his hand inside of me, taking me e over the edge.

And then, long after my muscles were so sore from coming time and time again, without any regard, without any utterance from my captor -- both of us knowing that I was going to be punished -- then, and only then, when my wanting was no longer able to be filled by only his mouth and hand, did he press his thick, throbbing cock inside of me to make me shudder with ecstasy and hunger – my insatiable appetite for this release ...

Oh my god – this was the best feeling, the headiest of sex. The hallucinations I was having as he thrust his length inside of my tiny opening on the edge of the chair! And right before I was about to climax the absolute hardest, he pulled out. I screamed a muffled cry of anguish –

please, no! Don't stop!

Suddenly, my legs were being unbound from the chair and he promptly flung me over his knees as he sat in my place. He was so powerful and so strong. I felt vulnerable once again, my ass up in the air, hands still bound behind me.

Then they came, hard and fast ... spankings like I was a child. Swift and remarkably jolting smacks against my ass: One! Two! Three! Four!! I couldn't take another ...

"I should make you count these out, Caitlin." He leaned down and removed the tape and my gag. "Ask me to receive your punishment and tell me why you deserve it."

I started crying from feeling so humiliated and exposed. I wanted to; I wanted to ask him for this, but I was so engrossed in my shame that I sobbed hopelessly without answering.

"Cailtin!" He yanked my hair back, inciting a hiccupped yelp from me.

"Yes, Sir..." I tried to speak between sobs, "I deserve to be punished for ..." I knew that I had to continue, but the words wouldn't come out.

"The longer you take to tell me what we both know, the longer you'll be in this terrible position, being smacked like a silly child." He still had my hair in his fist, pulling my body up so that it was difficult to breathe, or even speak for that matter. "In fact, if you take too long, there will be a more severe form of punishment coming your way."

"No! I mean, yes, Sir. I deserve this. I wanted this." My words were broken, due to the crying and breathless state of me. "I wished for this."

"Good, Caitlin." He rubbed my ass gently, caressing the reddened skin with his hand.

"Now, count them out." His hand flew up above me, I squeezed my eyes tightly and waited for the smack. Smack!

"One." I whisper-cried. Smack!

"Two" My voice got louder as they came, him slapping the sound out of my body over and over until I was drained of all my will.

And then he stopped and turned me over to cradle me in his arms. I just sobbed silently, thankfully, free and totally protected within his presence.

He picked me up and carried me into my bedroom. He placed me down on the soft bed and removed the restraints, took off the blindfold and spoke to me masked in the darkness of the winter night around him.

"Pleasure and pain mixed together ... this time the pleasure came first, next time, don't think you'll be so lucky. And, Caitlin, be careful what you wish for." He petted my head and pulled a blanket over me.

Thank you, Sir

. I couldn't speak, but I mouthed it as best I could. And then I passed out.

When I came to – I was lying in my bed, boyfriend of 4 years sleeping quietly next to me, as I stared in amazement at what had just occurred;

Was that a dream?

I was still inconspicuously wet down there, and snuck out of the bedroom quietly to inspect my office for signs of the night before. There was only one: A nearly empty glass of wine. Save for that, all I had to go on was the spent feeling that my muscles were relaying to me, the faint marks on my wrists and ankles, and the delicious memory that my pussy was still aching over.